Sex in C Major

Oh God, he was so pathetic. So utterly useless and pathetic-and he didn't even care right now.

At eight o'clock, the front door opened and Boyfriend came out in shorts and a T-shirt, a pair of wireless headphones glaringly white over his black hair. He jogged off down the street, past Stefan without so much as a glance in his direction, but Stefan stayed absolutely still. Daz had said nine. Maybe Boyfriend would be back and then go out again for the rest of the day by nine.

And maybe if Stefan showed up early, Daz wouldn't do it. Maybe he would use Stefan's mouth again, maybe finger him again, maybe make Stefan masturbate for him-but he wouldn't fuck him like Stefan needed.

So Stefan stayed at the stop, one leg jumping anxiously up and down, and waited.

Waited.

Waited.

Boyfriend didn't come back. A middle-aged woman in a niqab came out of the house next door, dragging her teenage son by the ear and shouting in a broad Yorkshire accent about how it was his own fault he didn't feel well and he was going to school whether he liked it or not. A fat man from the house on the other side was fixing his car. A cat trotted across the road and jumped up onto one of the windowsills at Daz's house.

Stefan twitched.

Daz was home. The window opened, and the cat slunk inside. The window closed.

Stefan's skin was on fire. Every hair was on end. Daz was home, Boyfriend wasn't-but it wasn't nine o'clock.

At eight fifty-five, Stefan finally got up off the cold metal seat, and walked down the road. At eight fifty-six, he let himself in the gate. And then he stood on the doorstep, waiting in the cold, for the next four minutes.

Four long, torturous minutes.

That ticked by slowly.

One.

By.

One.

The phone flashed nine, and Stefan hammered on the door.

Come on, come on, come on...

It opened and he lurched forward, catching at Daz's T-shirt and kissing him full on the mouth.

"I need you," he breathed. "Please, I need you, I—"

The slap cracked deafeningly down on his arse, and fire exploded. Stefan gasped, a hand flying to his dick-and Daz caught the wrist.

"That belongs to me."

"Y-yes, Sir."

"Don't touch my things."

"No, Sir."

Daz closed the door with a snap. "Naked from the waist down. Lose the coat as well."

Stefan was dropping his clothes before Daz had even finished speaking. The moment he stepped out of his jeans and underwear, Daz's fingers pinched down either side of his cock and began to rub, and Stefan froze with a breathy whimper.

"Socks."

"P-please-"

"Socks."

Stefan toed his socks off, the movement sending shivers up his hips from Daz's fingers, then Stefan clutched greedily at Daz's shoulders and began to grind against his hand and thigh. "Please, please, please..."

It only took moments before he was shuddering and coming against Daz's leg, rutting like a bitch in heat.

Daz wiped his damp fingers off on Stefan's lips, then laughed and shoved him towards the stairs.

"Now you owe me. Up you go."

Stefan fled up them, but was steered from the spare room to a different door.

The master bedroom.

"S-Sir?"

"On the bed."

"This is your "

"I know what it is. Get on the bed. And stop chatting, you're not here for conversation."

The bed was sinfully deep, and Stefan struggled not to let the mattress swallow him. Daz stripped the duvet down, turning Stefan onto his back and pushing a pillow under his hips to lift them. The position was exposed; it was downright vulnerable when Daz settled between Stefan's legs, fully clothed, and gripped his upper thighs in both hands to part them wider.

"You're too tight. So I'm going to open you up before you get that fucking you're after."

"Yes, Sir," Stefan whispered.

"Put your hands behind your head."

Stefan obeyed, lacing his fingers together.

"They stay here. And these" He slapped Stefan's thigh, a hand print instantly blooming."-stay open. If you move from this position, I'll put you in a chastity belt and send you home. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Safeword?"

"Checkmate. Sir."

Immediately, two fingers were shoved into his cunt, brutally hard and awkward. Stefan grunted and clenched down on them instinctively, then regretted it and whimpered when they were simply pulled out and thrust back in. They almost punched, fucking him like a thin cock, Daz's thumb hooked over and keeping him in place but so far, too far, from his dick.

"Sir, please—"

"Quiet."

Stefan whimpered as the finger-fuck got harder, Daz beginning to twist and bend his fingers inside now. The feel of them pushing and scraping against him, dragging dry against his passage it felt strange, uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, it wasn't enough...

"Please"

The fingers were dragged free.